


Sunalso's Halloween Celebration 2018

by sunalso



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Academy Era, Costumes, F/M, Family Fluff, Halloween, Lingerie, Magic isn't real, Party, Pet Adoption, Philindaisy family, Pumpkin carving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-06 10:50:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 8,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16386482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunalso/pseuds/sunalso
Summary: Works from my tumblr Halloween Fest. All based on prompts. First chapter is the index page listing stories, pairings, ratings, and brief summaries.Beta'd by Gort.





	1. Index

 

1.[ Luz](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16386482/chapters/38354465) (Mack/Elena) Pumpkin Carving, set post S5 with Mack as Director. (Written prior to the start of S6) rated G. 

 

2\. [Magic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16386482/chapters/38380484) (Fitz/Simmons) Magic isn't real ;-) A Tiny Academy AU. Rated M. 

 

3.  [Real](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16386482/chapters/38408459) (Spuffy) A Thing of Doom family Halloween, Toddy is 5. Rated M. 

 

4\. [One](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16386482/chapters/38433785) (Robbie/Daisy) Robbie can return from hell one night a year, and Daisy's waiting for him. Rated M. 

 

5\. [Stolen](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16386482/chapters/38463278) (Phil/May +Daisy) A family fic where the bus kids are actually kids. Rated G. 

 

6\. [Trick-or-Treat](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16386482/chapters/38490563) A little Sci-Ops era Fitzsimmons fic. Rated M. 

 

7.  [Party](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16386482/chapters/38521967) (Trip/Daisy) Daisy's bringing her friend Jemma to an off-campus Halloween party, where Daisy runs into someone new. Rated M. 

 

8\. [Ghosts](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16386482/chapters/38553266) (Quakrider) Daisy needs someone to talk to. Rated T. 

 

BONUS: [Woof](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16386482/chapters/38553467) (Huntingbird) Bobbi had a bad day at work and needs to cuddle. Rated M. 

 

9\. [Sweet](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16386482/chapters/38579942) (Fitz/Simmons + family) Matching Costumes (and feeeeeeeeelz) Rated G. 

 


	2. Luz

Luz

(Mack/Elena, pumpkin carving, rated G) prompt requested by @cabronallorona

*

“You don’t have anything más importante to do?” Elena said, crossing her arms as she looked at the dozen pumpkins Mack had set out on a table in his office.

“Not today.” He rubbed his hands together. “Today is for seasonal cheer and making people grin.”

Elena smiled at him. He’d come a long way as Director of SHIELD, from needing to be solemn and stern at all times so people would take him seriously, to figuring out that the cats he was herding did much better when they felt like a close-knit family. There’d been a lot of healing over the last year. She was proud of him, and it was good to see him so relaxed and smiling.

“And this means the Director of SHIELD is going to spend the morning carving pumpkins?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Not by myself.”

“Oh, now I’m helping?” Mack held out a scoop towards her, looking sheepish. “Why do I get the guts?” She took the scoop and frowned at it as Mack picked up a knife and attacked the top of the first pumpkin.

“Well—” He glanced at her. “They’re, uh…they’re gross.”

“I’m aware.”

“And I don’t like the feeling, and it gets under my nails, so…” He trailed off and smiled at her in a way he thought was probably cute.

She let the scoop dangle from her fingers and glared at him, though more for effect than because she was actually mad. “This is a metal arm thing?”

He shrugged. “I’ve learned that you have to utilize the resources you have.  So, yeah.”

“I can’t believe you. And if I didn’t love you so much, I’d find a place to put this scoop that you would not like.” She shook it at him, and Mack abandoned the knife he had stuck in the top of a pumpkin to sweep her into a hug.

“It’s a good thing you love me then.”

She tilted her head back and kissed him, tasting sugar and icing as he slid his tongue into her mouth. She pushed him back. “Mi amor, you’re holding out on me.” Mack’s brows drew together. “My favorite cookies?”

“Ah, I’m being abandoned for frosting. I see how it is.” He squeezed her again before pulling open a drawer revealing a plain tin with the lid not quite on. Inside she found a pile of soft sugar cookies with orange icing and black sprinkles.

Picking the biggest one, she munched on it while watching Mack cut off the top of the first pumpkin. She licked the icing off a finger and winked at Mack when she caught him staring at her while she did it. He’d been a big part of her learning to be okay with the new version of her when his love and desire hadn’t waned simply because part of her had changed.

“Time to work,” she said, snagging the pumpkin and digging into its innards. “Am I saving the seeds?”

“Yeah, Daisy’s got a new recipe she wants to try.”

“Let's hope this one is good.”

Mack snorted and started in on the second pumpkin.

The morning flew by as they worked side by side, occasionally touching shoulders, gossiping, or sharing brief kisses. By lunchtime, all the pumpkins had been cleaned and carved into smiling faces.

Mack put an arm around Elena’s shoulders. “Think they’ll like them?” he asked.

Before she could respond, there was a knock at the door. “Am I interrupting?” Jemma asked as Elena and Mack turned to look at her.

“Not if those are the lights,” Mack said.

Jemma held out a bag to him, and he eagerly took it and looked inside.

“Lights?” Elena tried to get a peek.

“Yeah,” he pulled one out. It was small and round with a switch on the side. “It’s too dangerous to have lit candles inside the base, so I bought the LED kind and Fitz-Simmons intercepted me as I brought them in and hijacked them to make ‘improvements’.”

Jemma perked up. “Now they will automatically turn on and off, and flicker in a much more realistic fashion.”

“Thank you.” Mack gestured at the jack-o-lanterns. “Do you want one for the lab?”

“Well, I’m not sure that’s sani—” Jemma gasped. “Oh, that one looks like a kitty. It’s adorable.” She picked up the pumpkin, retrieved a light, and gave a little wave before retreating down the hall.

“Good job, Director,” Elena said, elbowing Mack.

“You know it.”

“Sí, but how about you feed me before I eat any more of those cookies?”

Mack snorted and steered her towards the office door. “Lunch, then we find places for the pumpkins.”

Elena kissed his cheek. “Now that sounds like a plan.”


	3. Magic

A/N: Rated M. A tiny FS Academy AU. Set during their last year (when they’re 19) in a verse where they figured everything out much sooner.

*

“I can make something disappear,” Fitz whispered into his girlfriend’s ear. He wasn’t entirely sure how that’d happened, how he and Simmons had gone from lab partners to her being the absolute center of his universe, but he was thrilled they were graduating from the Academy together in the spring and presumably moving to a job, also together. Jemma had even brought up marriage in case SHIELD tried to separate them.

Fitz would have liked there to have been a more romantic setting for that discussion, but he knew that for Jemma, being strident about them not being split up was the equivalent of her buying out a flower shop as far as ostentatious declarations of love went.

He still had a jewelry box in his pocket that he was waiting for the right time to give her. Though at the moment, he was working on seducing his girlfriend—such a beautiful word—not proposing. Jemma was stunning with her hair up in a ponytail and wearing a white lab coat. Or maybe he was just horny. Either way, he wanted to get her out of the lab and back to his dorm room to have some fun. Only she was scrunching up her face as she looked at him. Fitz had really believed his carefully thought out pick-up line—it was almost Halloween after all— would be a bigger success.

“Haha. Nice try. Magic isn’t real.” She turned back to where she was doublechecking rows of neat numbers in a notebook. “Honestly, Fitz.”

He looked heavenward and sighed.

Jemma’s pen paused. Then she set it down. “Was that supposed to be a sexual innuendo?”

“It’s less sexy if I have to explain it.”

She turned towards him, looking annoyed and crossing her arms over her middle. Right under her tits. Which sort of pushed them together while her jumper did an excellent job of clinging to them. Fitz was sure he was staring, but since he was allowed to do that since she was his girlfriend, he didn’t raise his eyes. Which turned out to be an excellent forethought, as he was treated to seeing her nipples tighten into hard little points under her jumper.

He’d caused that. It made him giddy.

Jemma glanced around and sidled over to him. “So, can you make this…thing, that disappears, reappear again?”

“Over and over,” he said to her boobs.

Jemma grabbed his arm. “Supply closet?”

His blood rushed south. “I was thinking of heading back to the dorm, but the closet is an even better idea.”

“Of course it is,” she panted, trying to drag him towards the door of the lab, but he couldn’t wait that long and swept his arm around her, pulling her into a kiss. They stumbled back until Jemma’s rear met a workbench. He pushed a leg between hers and completely unashamedly ground himself against her.

Jemma squeaked in the most adorable way and cupped his cheek as she hungrily snogged him. 

There were footsteps in the hallway they both ignored. “Ew,” said a disgusted female voice. “Get a room.” The footsteps hurried away.

Fitz broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers.

“Closet,” Jemma whined, pulling at one of his belt loops. “I’m ready to see that magic trick of yours.”

“I thought magic wasn’t real?”

“Fitz!”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got my wand all ready,” he said, stepping back.

Jemma’s eyes darted downwards, and she grinned. “Just don’t start pulling rabbits out of a hat.”

“I’ll try not to.” They hurried down the hall, and Fitz was absolutely certain that the most magical thing he’d ever experienced was how much he was in love with Jemma, or just maybe, how much she loved him.

 


	4. Real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little fluffy Spuffy story, set in the Thing of Doom-verse. (Tod's a five-year-old) Rated M. From the prompt: “Listen, when I said I was into biting, I didn’t think you’d do THAT.”

“Do I have to do this?”

Buffy looked up from where she was sitting on the bed and inventorying the candy she’d be handing out that night while Spike took Tod out to trick-or-treat. She couldn’t see Spike, he was in the walk-in closet, but she could hear him muttering curses. “Yes,” she said, returning to the candy. Hadn’t they had more butterfingers?

“Are you sure?” It was a whine.

“Do you love your son?”

There was a heavy sigh from the closet. “Of course I do.” Spike walked out in his costume. He was a lion, complete with a tail and a hood that had ears and a mane. Toddy had wanted to be a lion tamer, and since they didn’t have a dog, it’d fallen to Spike to be the lion. He pouted at Buffy, and she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. He looked ridiculous.

She slapped her hand over her mouth as a giggle slipped out anyway.

Spike growled in a way that sounded very lionish before he pounced, knocking her backward onto the bed and scattering the candy. He growled again and vamped out, but Buffy only laughed harder at his yellow eyes and fangs.

“Now you look like a lion!” she gasped around her peals of laughter. Spike rolled his eyes and pounced again. His fingers found her ribs and tickled, making her laugh harder and squirm. He plucked her shirt up and kissed, then nipped, her belly. “Listen,” she panted. “When I said I was into biting, I didn’t think you do that.” She pushed at his head, but he didn’t budge.

Spike snarled, and the vibrations against her tummy tickled, and she laughed more, weakly hitting his back. He looked up at her and grinned before licking his lips. “I could eat you all up, luv, starting right here.” His finger landed on the juncture between her legs and she snorted, which earned her another pout.

There was a sound in the hallway, and the blue returned to his eyes.

“Help, Toddy! A lion’s got me!” Buffy called.

Tod, his hair slicked back and wearing his lion-tamer costume, ran into the room. With his usual curls swept back, he looked so much like a miniature version of his father hat Buffy’s heart ached. She could have easily missed this, missing being a family.

“I’ll save you, mum!” Tod pulled his shoulders back. “Get back!” He snapped the whip in his hand against the wall. Which probably wasn’t good for the paint. And wait—

“Spike,” she whispered. “Is that a real whip?”

He looked sheepish. “I thought we could use it later?”

“Only you,” she murmured, because of course her vampire would buy their son an actual whip with the idea of using it in the bedroom.

“Leave this defenseless woman alone!” Tod yelled, smacking the whip against the wall again. Thankfully, it seemed Spike had at least told him not to hit people with it.

But… “Excuse me? Defenseless?” She braced her legs and shoved Spike off her. He ended up rolling onto his back on the bed with a yelp.

Tod crossed his arms. “I’m supposed to be saving you, Mom.” Buffy sat up on the side of the bed and licked her thumb before whipping a smudge of what appeared to be chocolate off her son’s cheek.

“Mum doesn’t need much saving,” Spike said. It sounded like his mouth was full, and she turned to find him munching on one of the remaining Butterfingers. That solved that mystery.

“And where did you learn ‘defenseless’?” she asked Tod.

“Da.”

“Ah. Is that also who let you have chocolate already?”

Tod shook his head. “Aunt Willow sent me a present for…for…Sow…for her holiday today.”

“Sounds like we need to talk with Aunt Willow,” Spike said.

“She said to tell you I am only young once.”

Buffy flopped back on the bed.

Spike chuckled. “Willow’s not wrong.”

Buffy put her hands over her face.

Tod lifted one and peeked under it. “Are you going to give Daddy whiskers and a black nose?”

“He’s going to have a black eye if he’s not careful,” she grumbled, but stood and retrieved an eyebrow pencil from her vanity.

“What are you going to be, mum?” Tod asked from beside her as she grabbed Spike’s chin and ignored the way he curled his tongue as she drew whiskers on his cheeks.

“She’s going to be the same thing she is every year,” Spike said. “The most amazing woman ever.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, but chocolate’s a better bribe.” She rubbed the pencil over the tip of his nose. “And I have a costume. I’m going to be Wonder Woman.”

Spike’s eyes lit up. “This is news. Will you be wearing that costume all night?”

She raised an eyebrow, but then pressed a kiss to his Butterfinger- flavored lips. “Only if you’re a very good lion.”

Tod prodded Spike with his whip. “Don’t worry, mum. I’ll make sure he’s good.”

Spike laughed and leaped from the bed, grabbing Toddy and swinging him around as the little boy giggled. Buffy put her hands on her hips and smiled as she watched them. Spike tossed Tod onto the bed, and he grabbed a Butterfinger, tearing at the wrapper.

Buffy sighed.

Spike picked up the whip Tod had dropped and poked her with it. “What about you? Are you going to be good?”

“I’m always good.”

Spike put a hand on her waist and pulled her close. “And don’t I love that about you.”

A candy wrapper hit her shoulder, and she and Spike turned to glare at Tod.

“No kissing lions.”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Where have I heard that before?”

Buffy shushed him. “Toddy, go wash your face.” Her son ran off, and she turned to Spike. “Now where’s my lion kiss?”


	5. One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An itty bitty quakerider fic, set post-canon. (as of S5) For the prompt: The one day I can return to this realm, and this is the greeting I get?” Rated M.

Daisy ran her hands down her sides and hoped what she was wearing wasn’t too much. Or not enough. The black lace bra and panty set had looked wicked in Victoria’s Secret, in a good way, and she’d splurged and bought a sheer robe to go over it and black stockings. It was a lot for someone who was either in workout clothes or a field suit ninety-nine percent of the time.

But this was the other one percent of the time. The one night when the veil between worlds was thin and her demon-lover could return to her.

Also known as the night Robbie could come hang out.

The first year had been a surprise. The following five had been wonderful. Daisy would have the movies she’d thought Robbie would want to see ready to go, his favorite food set out, letters from Gabe, pictures and videos on her phone of everyone, as well as anything else she believed Robbie might enjoy. For the last three, that had included her, but she’d let Robbie take the lead and seduce her out of her jeans and blouse.

This year, she wasn’t waiting. Daisy wanted him, she was going to have him, and everything else could come second. After her.

She grinned.

The room Robbie would appear in was decked out with everything they’d need: food, a bed, the TV. As soon as the sun dipped below the horizon, the air took on an ozone scent, and the hair on Daisy’s arm stood on end as the room became charged. Fire swept in a circle, for a second she saw The Rider’s grinning skull, and then it was just Robbie standing there, a few tendrils of smoke rising from his shoulders. He looked the same as always. At some point she was going to start to hate him for not growing old with her. But not yet.

“Daisy,” he breathed, voice hoarse from disuse.

“Hiya, Robbie,” she said, extending a hand towards him. He rushed into her arms, holding her tight, and her heart settled into its home.

He buried his nose in her hair and breathed in, then kissed her ear, neck, cheek, and finally, lips. She felt like she was floating. His hands skittered down her back and grabbed at her ass. Robbie paused, then patted her behind before stepping back. He looked confused, but then his gaze swept down her front.

Daisy put a hand on her hip and raised a brow.

“Chica…the one day I can return to this realm, and this is the greeting I get?” his words were a throaty purr.

“You like?”

“I love. And I lo—”

“Don’t. Please. I know.” It would hurt too much to hear the words when she could never keep him. He kissed her instead and pulled her close. She paused to unzip his jacket, then molded herself against the hard planes of his chest. “I miss you so much,” she said, her hands finding their way under his shirt. She pressed her palms flat against his smooth, warm skin.

“I miss you too,” he choked out as he kissed a line along her jaw and down her neck. “Every second of every minute.”

“I don’t want to miss you right now. Oh god, Robbie, please. Don’t let me miss you.”

He growled, and his fingers snagged the lace of her panties as he tore them from her body. She backed up, leading him along until her legs felt the bed behind her. She sat and scooted backward, but Robbie paused to strip. The sight of his lean frame made her tremble.

He sprang onto the bed and prowled up her body until he was able to kiss her again. “Daisy,” he growled against her lips. “I may have come from hell, but right now, I’m going to take you to heaven.”


	6. Stolen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Philinda (Philindaisy family) AU, where the bus kids are actually kids. From the prompt: “What a way to spend Halloween.”

“Is it spooky enough?” May asked her daughter.

Daisy, all of seven and a self-proclaimed expert on everything Halloween, eyed the fake spiderwebs that May had just spent twenty minutes decorating their porch with. She nodded firmly.

“Yup.”

“Do you think anyone will scream?” A few of Daisy’s classmates were coming over for a Halloween party and trick-or-treating.

Daisy’s face squished up. “Maybe Fitz. Jemma’s just going to want to know what kind of spiders they are.”

May laughed and shooed her daughter inside. Her miracle of a daughter she couldn’t have imagined having before meeting Phil. As a police officer, May had been wedded to her job. It’d destroyed her first marriage, and after that, she’d thought she’d been too broken for second chances. Then she’d met Phil Coulson, who was the principal of a middle school out in the suburbs, and she remembered what it was like to feel alive.

Now she did online security consulting and was a mother. It was her little slice of heaven. Their mid-century house was two floors with a wraparound porch. It wouldn't have been her first choice, but Phil had inherited from his parents, and now it was home. There were maples in the back and front yards, their leaves all wearing bright oranges and reds this time of year.

Earlier in the day, Phil had raked the ones in the backyard into a huge pile that Daisy had spent a good hour jumping in. The leaves were now all in bright orange plastic bags that had pumpkin faces on them. They were sitting in the front yard, grinning along with the actual jack-o-lanterns.

Inside, the house was warm and smelled of the apple cider Phil was mulling in the kitchen. The radio was on NPR, and he was humming along to the jazz.

“The other kids will be here in ten,” May reminded him as she took Daisy upstairs to get dressed.

“Ready!” Phil called.

In Daisy’s room, May made the bed as Daisy proudly put on her Captain Marvel costume. “Look at me!” she said, hopping onto the bed and punching imaginary enemies. “I’m a superhero!”

May was in such a good mood she didn’t even get after Daisy for jumping on the bed, but she did pick up her daughter and hug her.

“Mom! Superheroes don’t need hugs!”

“I beg to differ,” Phil said, coming into the room and taking Daisy into his arms to squeeze her before setting her down. “Your mom’s a real-life superhero, and she needs a lot of hugs.”

Daisy’s eyes narrowed as she considered. Then she wrapped her arms around her mother again. May put a hand on her back and smiled gratefully at her husband. Daisy was so independent that May sometimes felt like she wasn’t needed much anymore.

There was the sound of a car pulling up outside and the doors opening and closing.

“Run and greet your guests,” May said. “And tell them no candy from the bowl in the hallway.” May gave her daughter a tiny push in the direction of the door. Daisy’s feet were loud on the stairs as she ran down them.

“Tell Fitz that twice!” Phil called after her. “Five dollars says he still eats a Reese’s before we get down there.”

“I know not to take that bet,” Melinda said, walking over to the window. The kids on the sidewalk waved as the van that dropped them off left. Phil came to stand beside her as she listened to the kids’ chatter.

“Who are you supposed to be?” Hunter asked Jemma, who had a lab coat on.

“I’m Marie Curie,” she said and pointed to Fitz. “He’s a skeleton, but it’s not very anatomically accurate.”

“We’ll be hearing about that all night,” Phil said, and May patted his arm.

Hunter and Bobbi both looked like they were soldiers, but their respective parents seemed to be smart enough not to give either of them weapons.

Daisy ran out and hugged Bobbi, then stepped back and put her hands on her hips. “I’m Captain Marvel! And no candy until my mom and dad say so.”

Fitz groaned loudly.

“Let’s set up for apple bobbing,” May said, sliding her arm around Phil and hugging him.

“Why did we decide to do this again?” he asked, frowning at the kids who were running in circles now and laughing. “What a way to spend Halloween.”

She hugged him a little tighter. “Because we’re superheroes…that need hugs.” Phil turned and put his arms around her. She tilted her face up to his. “And sometimes kisses.”


	7. Trick-or-Treat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little Fitzsimmons Sci-Ops era fic. (They were roommates!) Jemma needs help with her costume. Fitz needs help thinking. Rated M. For the prompt: “Please tell me that’s fake blood.”

Jemma stuck a finger in the hole she’d just made in her blouse. It was an old white one, and she’d left quite a few buttons undone, enough that her cleavage was visible. It was Halloween after all, and she wanted to fit in at the party. She and Fitz had decided to go as zombies, but Jemma was going to do her best to be a tastefully sexy zombie.

The hole in her shirt was meant to show off a little side boob and bra, while still looking like a stab wound. Jemma picked up a tube of fake blood and dripped it onto herself, trying to make it look as accurate as possible. The result wasn’t quite right, but maybe to an untrained eye it’d be enough? She thought she’d better check and walked into the kitchen where Fitz was putting together a pizza for them to eat before going out.

If her roommate thought it looked alright, she’d be satisfied. “Fitz—” she started.

He looked up and gasped. Hurling himself across the room, he slammed his hand down over her fake wound.

“Jemma! What the hell happened, do I need to call an ambulance? Take you to A and E? Do you feel dizzy?”

His hand was basically grabbing her breast, and Jemma inhaled sharply as sparks shot across her skin from the contact. This was bad. Fitz was her friend, her best friend, and she thought she’d squished any lingering crush she had on him. Her nipple pebbled against her bra and she whimpered.

Fitz’s hand that wasn’t on her tit cupped her cheek. “Jemma, talk to me! Oh, god—”

She shook her head. “No, Fitz, I’m fine. I was working on my costume. I guess I know now that it looks real enough.”

“Oh.” His face flushed. “Please tell me that’s fake blood.”

“It is. I didn’t purloin actual blood from work. That would be highly unsanitary.”

“Uh.” Fitz was… he was staring at her lips. She was almost sure of it. His palm was warm on her cheek, and the hand on her boob moved slightly, going from trying to stem blood flow to gently holding it.

The kitchen seemed very warm.

“You’re touching my boob,” she finally said.

“Yeah.” He sounded reverent, but then his eyes widened. Jemma knew he was about to flee, stumble back and apologize, but she didn’t want that because then she’d have to laugh and go back to pretending she didn’t have any of these feelings.

She grabbed his shirt. “Keep doing it.” She pushed up on her toes and kissed the corner of his mouth. He tasted like chocolate, and she knew he’d been sneaking candy out of the bowl she’d set out earlier.

“Okay,” he said. His head shifted, and his lips captured hers completely. She grunted when her back met the wall and moaned as Fitz used his hips to pin her there. She must not have been the only one with sublimated feelings if the hardness behind his zip was anything to go by.

Both his hands worked their way under her shirt and slid up her sides, leaving fire in their wake, to knead her breasts. She hitched a leg around his hip, grunting as he immediately ground himself against her center.

“I don’t think we’re going to make it to the party,” Jemma said as Fitz’s lips left her mouth to kiss down her neck. She bit her lip, it felt swollen and maybe a little bruised. “But at least that means we don’t have to worry about getting our costumes right.”

Fitz groaned something against her neck and the vibrations made her shudder. This was an odd turn of events, but she really, really, didn’t want him to stop. Ever. Her body and subconscious had apparently already decided he was meant to be hers and her conscious mind was just now catching up.

“What did you say?” she asked.

Fitz straightened up, a hopeful look on his face. “Naked?”

“Oh, excellent idea. Dinner can wait.” He grinned and started to drag her to the floor. “The bedroom is five feet to the left.”

Fitz appeared puzzled, and Jemma was rather gratified that she’d somehow overwhelmed the smartest…most wonderful…handsome…kissable…

He tugged at her again, and Jemma knew there was something she’d just been saying, but it probably wasn’t important. She sprawled on her back on the floor and quickly undid the buttons of her blouse while Fitz attacked first her trousers, then his.

Jemma wiggled and let her legs fall open. Fitz instantly was between them, filling up the empty space. She kissed him again and tangled her fingers in his curls as his tongue pressed into her mouth.

She’d meant to trick everyone this Halloween with her costume, but instead she was the one who was going to get a treat.


	8. Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trip/Daisy (with background FitzSimmons because somehow they snuck into this fic) College AU. Daisy and Jemma are going to an off-campus Halloween bash, where Jemma knows exactly who she's looking for, but Daisy runs into someone new. Rated M.

Daisy smiled at her friend as Jemma tugged on the skirt she was wearing.

“It’s a bit short, don’t you think?” Jemma asked. She was dressed in an angel costume, but the sexy kind with a clingy vee-neck dress that barely came down far enough to be modest. She had tiny wings in back, a halo, and strappy sandals with a kitten heel. Daisy had talked her into it just that afternoon as she’d painted Jemma’s toenails gold.

“You look fine,” Daisy assured her.

“Says the woman dressed like the devil.”

Daisy laughed. Her costume for the off-campus party, where there was going to be a pool and party games, was a tight, bright-red catsuit with a tail and horns. She had lipstick to match and was ready to show off.

“Are you sure he’s going to be here?” Jemma asked, wringing her hands.

“I’m sure Fitz will be here. I talked to his friend, and Hunter swore up and down he was dragging Fitz along to run the stereo system all night.” Daisy rolled her eyes. Maybe they could play a game of seven minutes in heaven and lock Fitz and Jemma in a closet and then just forget to let them out for a couple of hours. That should do the trick of letting nature take its course.

What remained to be seen was if there was anyone interesting for Daisy to meet. Her last boyfriend had turned out to be a total jerkface, and she did not want a repeat of that experience, ever. Thankfully, Ward was out of state at a football game, so Daisy could be a hundred percent sure neither he nor any of his cronies would be at the party.

They could hear the party before they could see it, and once they turned onto the street the old Victorian house was located on, it was abundantly clear which place was party central. The trees on either side of the street were almost bare, and the house was looming and gray, but not the least bit scary as lights blazed in every window, pop music thumped loudly, and college students crowded together on the lawn, porch, and were sitting on windowsills.

Daisy pulled a reluctant Jemma along, ignoring several wolf-whistles, and threaded through the knots of people dressed as vampires, zombies, and sexy-everything-imaginable.

“There, see?” Daisy said, pointing to Fitz who was scowling as he stood beside the stereo system and fiddled with a wire.

“What if he doesn’t want to see me?” Jemma squeaked.

“Oh my god, trust me, he wants to see you.” She marched over to Fitz, Jemma in tow. “Hey, Fitz!” He glanced up.

“Hi, Dais,” he said, looking less than thrilled. He was dressed in plain clothes with a ‘Hello My Name Is’ badge stuck to his shirt. Only it read ‘God’.

“What’s with the tag?” Daisy asked.

“It’s from a TV show,” Jemma said, and Fitz’s gaze darted towards her, obviously not realizing until that moment who Daisy was with. His eyes traveled up and down Jemma’s body, and his face turned pink.

“Hi Jemma,” he said, voice hoarse. He tugged at the collar of his shirt and coughed

“Oh, let me get that button for you,” Jemma reached for Fitz’s collar, and he froze with a dopey look of adoration on his face. Daisy sighed and turned to let them have some time to awkwardly nerd flirt.

She ran right into someone.

“Damn, Girl,” a voice said. She looked up into a handsome face and wide smile. “I was going to say hi because we match—” The guy gestured to himself. He was dressed as a devil as well, with a red vest with nothing under it, black jeans, and a set of horns. “But…I don’t know since you walked in here with an angel.”

She smiled and put her index finger on his chest. “Angels and demons can totally be friends.”

“And what about demons and demons?”

“That remains to be seen. What if we start with a drink?”

The guy put his hand on her lower back to usher her towards the kitchen, and sparks danced up her spine.

“There’s a wide selection to choose from. Crappy beer, even crappier beer, or shitty beer. Your choice.”

“I’ll take a crappy beer, please,” Daisy said with a laugh. The guy bent over a tub filled with ice and Daisy admired the view. Returning with a couple of cans that she didn’t even bother reading the label of, she led him through the throng and up the stairs until she found a padded bench to sit on that was far away enough from the music that they could talk.

“What’s your name, beautiful?” the guy asked. He had lovely dark brown eyes that Daisy was sure she could fall right into.

“Daisy, I’m a computer science major.”

“Antoine Triplett, but call me Trip.”

“And your major?”

He gave her a one-sided smile. “Uh, physical therapy.”

“Oh, wow, cool!”

“You think so?” He looked a little embarrassed.

“It’s good money and steady work, plus you get to help people.” She got the full smile this time, and it was quite the smile. That along with the crimson of his vest against his dark skin and rockin’ biceps were doing something for her. “And you already get bonus points for not asking me if I’m secretly a guy for being into computers.”

Trip laughed. “I’m digging your bod, no matter what gender you are. It’s all good to me anyway.” Oh, damn. She upgraded him from hot to potential boyfriend material. “So why’d you drag your friend in here only to dump her with the radio guy?”

Daisy rolled her eyes. “I didn’t dump her with him. Jemma only got dressed up and came along with me because I was sure Fitz would be here. She’s got a huge crush on him, and I’m pretty sure it’s mutual but it’s stupidly hard to get either of them to make a move.”

“Wait…that’s Jemma? The Jemma? With the—I’m quoting—‘most brilliant mind and perfect tits’?”

“That sounds like Fitz,” Daisy said, finally cracking open her beer and taking a sip. It was super crappy. “Do you know him?”

“I hang out with him and Hunter sometimes, play video games, that sort of thing. He never shuts up about her. Though I think he’s wrong about her boobs because I’m looking at the perfect set right now.” Trip’s gaze fell to Daisy’s chest.

“Flattery will probably get you everywhere,” she said, tilting her head back and draining half her beer.

The music pulsing through the house changed to something with a slower tempo.

“Want to dance?” Trip asked. “I promise I will not keep my hands to myself.”

“You better not.” She finished her beer and Trip did the same, and they tossed the cans in the trash as they returned to the living room. It was empty of furniture, and a few couples were already wrapped around each other.

Trip bumped her shoulder with his. “Looks like the geniuses figured it out.” She looked where he was pointing, and sure enough, Jemma and Fitz were swaying together. She had her head on his shoulder, and Fitz looked like he was in another dimension of bliss.

“Thank god,” Daisy whispered. “I was going to lock them in a closet together.”

“That’s step two,” Trip said with a chuckle. He put an arm around Daisy, and she slid hers around his neck. He felt really good, strong and warm. His hands trailed down her back to rest right above her rear. “You’ve got some tension, especially in your neck,” he whispered. “I can show you some ways to stretch and some exercises to do to avoid strain while you’re working on computers all day.”

“Mmm,” Daisy replied. “That doesn’t sound very devilish of you.”

“I could show you while we’re naked.”

“Now you’re talking.”


	9. Ghosts

Robbie stood outside the door to Daisy’s apartment with his hand raised to knock. She’d been weird since the staff Halloween party at SHIELD HQ that afternoon. It’d been the usual at work affair with tacky decorations and people dressed in even tackier costumes. Daisy had wandered around, poked at the chips and dip, then left in a huff.

He knew it wasn’t his place to pry. Things had been less than settled between him and Daisy since Robbie had returned to this realm, the Rider being content to wreck its vengeance against SHIELD’s enemies for the time being. It was weird being a new recruit, but Robbie didn’t have a lot of other prospects that would pay enough to keep Gabe in school.

He knocked softly. Then louder when Daisy didn’t respond. She finally yanked the door open, scowling with red-rimmed eyes.

“What?” she said.

“Hey,” Robbie replied. “Can I come in?”

“Housekeeper’s on vacation,” Daisy said, walking to her living room. Robbie closed the door and followed her. She plopped on the couch, and he pushed aside some laundry to sit on an ottoman. There were empty soda cans on the coffee table and a few pizza boxes.

Daisy wasn’t looking at him.

“I thought you might need to talk. You got upset at the party, and I couldn’t figure out why. Was it the kids?” Fitz-Simmons had been there with their brood and Mack and Elena with their two. Maybe Daisy was feeling left out.

She snorted. “Oh my god, no. I do not want kids. Ever. I’m good.”

“Then what?”

“You really want to know?”

Robbie nodded. “You can tell me, chica. I wouldn’t be here bugging you otherwise.”

She sighed. “It was the Ouija board.”

“Okay, you’re going to have to explain.”

“It was just meant to be a cute decoration,” Daisy said, picking at lint on her jeans. “I doubt whoever put it out even thought about it, but all I could think about was all the people we’ve lost. Trip, Coulson…Lincoln. I can’t talk to them.” She closed her eyes. “It was like a sick joke. All these people I love. Gone. And if I want to talk to them…” Daisy wiped at her eyes.

Robbie looked down at his hands, then held one out. “I’m here.”

Daisy sniffed. After a long moment, she reached out and joined her hand with his.

“It’s not much,” he continued. “But we can talk. I know what it is to lose…” he trailed off.

Daisy squeezed his fingers. “Don’t forget me,” she said.

“Never. And we don’t have to forget anyone else, either. And while they’re not here to say anything, why don’t you tell me some stories? It makes you feel close. Better than trying a board game.”

Daisy laughed, but it was brittle. “Let’s order Thai, and I can tell you about how I met Coulson.”

Robbie nodded. It was a tiny thread, but it was a connection. A start. Maybe someday it’d be more, but if not he was glad she was talking to someone who, even if they were a ghost, could at least talk back.


	10. Woof

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rated M. Huntingbird. Bobbi stops by the animal shelter on the way home from work when she realizes she could use a friend.

Bobbi turned her car’s engine off. What in the hell was she doing? It’d been a rough day at work, sure. Her boss had yelled, she’d had a pen explode in her hand, the stack of paperwork had never shrunk, but that didn’t mean she had to be stopping by the animal shelter.

She’d seen a sign advertising that they were staying open late the night before Halloween for a fundraising event, and abruptly found the thought of going home to her apartment by herself absolutely terrible. She hadn’t had a boyfriend in forever, hadn’t even met someone with any potential for, well, longer than that, if she was honest.

What she needed wasn’t a man, but a dog. Sweet, loyal, always happy to see her. That sounded like heaven. And she could put him in a cage if he misbehaved without it being illegal. There wasn’t a whole lot of men who’d agree to that one.

Bobbi snorted to herself as she walked into the shelter. There was a crush of people, all of them fawning over puppies and kitties. Not what she wanted at all. She needed a dog. One to go jogging with her in the morning and who’d keep her warm while they cuddled on the couch.

“Can I help you?” asked a frazzled looking volunteer.

“I was looking for an adult dog? Breed doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, thank god,” the volunteer said and led Bobbi through the crush to a back hallway. “Take your time and find one of us if you see a dog you’re interested in.”

Bobbi nodded and slowly walked down the row of fenced-in cages. It was like a prison. Most of the dogs looked sad, and she wished she could take them all home, but as that wasn’t practical, she tried to focus on one that would make a good companion. She ruled out the very small and very large ones. A basset hound was a no. She needed one that would love to run with her. There were several lab mixes that were promising, but it wasn’t until she got to the very last cage that she knew she’d found the right animal.

The paper on the door didn’t list a name, but it called the medium-sized dog an “Australian Shepard mix”. It was a male, with soulful, clear brown eyes, and fur that was a patchwork of white, brown and a nearly blue gray.

Bobbi crouched down. “Hey,” she said. “Hi. I’m Bobbi. I have an apartment, and I need someone to keep me company. I like runs on the beach and watching Netflix on the couch. I promise you steak every Friday.”

The shepherd edged towards her.

“I promise I’m nice. I have a queen-sized bed even though it’s just me. Maybe you could sleep in it?”

The dog pressed up against the chain-link of the cage and Bobbi stuck a finger through one of the holes and scratched his ear.

“I see you made a friend?” the shelter volunteer said, coming to stand beside Bobbi.

“I like him.”

“He came in earlier this evening. We gave him his shots and scanned him, but there wasn’t a chip. He’s got one now, of course.”

“Can I adopt him? Or do I have to wait since he’s new? I was hoping to take one home today, but I could wait.” The dog whined and pushed against her hand.

“Well.” The volunteer frowned. “We need the room, just…if someone comes looking for him, we’d need you to bring him back.”

“Of course.” Wouldn’t happen if she never answered any calls from the shelter.

Thirty minutes and several hundred dollars later, Bobbi carried a huge bag of dog food out to her car while her new friend obediently shadowed her. He had a shiny new black leather collar and lead, and jumped into the passenger seat of her car with no fear. She had the feeling he was very intelligent for a dog, even if he did tend to drool.

The ride home went quickly and her as yet unnamed dog peed on the tree outside her building before she led him inside. The dog poked his nose around and had a good smell of everything while she heated her dinner. He ate his kibble while she had meatloaf.

Afterward, she showered, laughing when the dog poked his head around the curtain. “I’m right here, and I’m fine,” she told him. He barked, and his tongue lolled out of his mouth. Once she was in her pajamas, she sent an email to her boss saying she’d be working from home tomorrow.

Though working would be a loose concept. She needed to name her dog, and maybe take him to the dog park and the groomers.

Crawling into bed, she wasn’t surprised when her new friend jumped up beside her and laid down.

“Don’t hog the covers,” she said, stroking his head. Bobbi kissed his nose. “I’m glad you’re here.”

****

The next morning, Bobbi awoke before her alarm. She was warm and comfortable, the arm around her was holding her securely and—

“Fuck!” she yelled, kicking the covers off and hurtling out of bed. She stumbled as she put her back against the wall. Her gun was in her nightstand, but as the man in her bed was currently blinking and looking confused, she edged towards it. As far as creeps went, he wasn’t the worst she’d seen. Finding him naked in her bed and holding her wasn’t winning him any points, no matter how nice his arms were.

Something else was niggling at her mind.

“Where ‘s my dog?” she growled at the guy, who was now sitting up and warily watching her.

He held up his hand.

“What?”

“Er, hi, I’m Lance. Um…you brought me home last night?”

“I what?” And why did he sound British? That wasn’t fair.

“From the shelter.” His finger went to his throat, which was circled by a familiar looking leather collar. “Thanks for that. Would have been a lot harder to explain if I’d transformed back in their cage.”

“If you _what_?”

He smiled sheepishly, and it was a great deal more charming than it had any right to be. “I’m, uh…kind of like a werewolf? Just not very wolf-like? Couple days a month I turn into a dog. I was trying to make it home yesterday and mistimed things.” He shrugged. “It didn’t turn out that bad.”

“You watched me shower!”

His grin went from sweet to wolfish. “Can’t blame a bloke for looking.” His eyes swept up and down her body and Bobbi winced as her nipples tightened. Damn it.

Lance raised an eyebrow. “I am bought and paid for.” He pointed to his arm. “I even have a microchip that says I belong to you now.”

That shouldn’t sound sexy. Why did it sound sexy? What hadn’t she grabbed her gun? “I was looking for someone to go running with, or cuddle on the couch.”

Lance perked up. “I can do those things. I usually jog before work when it’s still cool.”

Bobbi stared at him.

“I’ll be transforming back tonight. Would like to stay here, if that’s alright. Though I don’t have much to wear.”

Bobbi sat down on the side of the bed. This was weird, but maybe…she stared at his full lips. “Anything else I should know besides you transform into a dog?”

“I like beer? And football? Not the American kind.”

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“I’m trying.”

Bobbi laughed, and Lance slid his hand over the covers to poke at her side. “Are you going to complain if I put you on a leash tonight?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t complain if you put me on a leash right now.”

Bobbi swung her legs up onto the bed and slid under the sheet. “Am I going to regret this?”

“Probably, but not for a while.”

“Just remember who owns who,” she said as she scooted towards Lance.

He kissed the corner of her lips. “Woof.”


	11. Sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitzsimmons family feels from the prompt "Don’t tell me we’re in matching costumes AGAIN" Rated T.

“Mama?” Jemma smiled at her daughter and scooped her into her arms. “Tricks-Treats?” the toddler asked.

“Soon, pumpkin.”

Two-and three-quarter-year old Cammie frowned. “Not p’pkin, I’m a cow.” She mooed loudly for emphasis.

“You’re very right.”

“Is that my little cow I heard?” Fitz asked, looking up from where he was wrestling with the boots he was trying to get on. He was dressed as a cowboy, with jeans, a white shirt, vest, and black cowboy hat. Jemma had plans for him later that involved him wearing nothing but that hat. Oh, and the boots, if he could ever get the bloody things on.

Cammie mooed again. Jemma was a cowgirl, dressed in the least feminist costume ever, with a full skirt and cow print vest. Her hat was even a miniature, girly version of a cowboy hat and was pink. But it was the only appropriate “cowgirl” costume the shop had stocked, so she’d worn it anyway because Cammie had insisted a cow needed a cowboy and cowgirl looking after it.

There was a knock at the door just as Fitz triumphantly pulled his boot on. Jemma opened it, expecting early trick or treaters. 

“Howdy!” Deke said, and Cammie squealed and held her arms out to him. He was dressed as a horse and holding a plastic pumpkin. “Hi, Camille,” he said, taking Cammie from the stunned Jemma.

“We weren’t expecting you, but come in,” she said, stepping back.

Fitz looked up and heaved a huge sigh as he put his hands on his hips. “Don’t tell me we’re in matching costumes again.”

Deke shrugged a shoulder. “I swear it’s a coincidence.”

Fitz rolled his eyes.

“You look very nice,” Jemma said, patting Deke’s shoulder.

“Horsie!” Cammie cried. “U’cle Deke’s a horsie!”

“That’s right, pumpkin,” Deke replied.

“COW!” she yelled and mooed again.

Deke laughed and hugged her, before looking at Fitz. Deke shuffled his feet. “Um, I really didn’t want to miss her first time trick or treating, and I thought…maybe…I know I’m kind of old…I could too?”

“If you want,” Fitz said gruffly, turning away and walking towards the kitchen. Deke glanced towards Jemma.

“We’d love to have you along and you can certainly take Cammie to the doors and ask with her.”

Deke perked up. “I can’t believe people just give away candy.”

“I want choc’lat,” Cammie announced.

“Me too!” Deke said. “The kind with nuts.”

Cammie made a face. “Ew.”

“How about we trade when we get back?”

She nodded, her brown curls bouncing.

Jemma looked out the front window. The sun was just about to go down. She should call and check on Mack and Elena, who should be on their way with their son, just to make sure they were arriving soon, but her phone was charging next to Fitz’s up in their room.

“Deke.” She turned towards where he was making faces at Cammie so she’d giggle. “Can I borrow your phone? I just want to check in with Mack and Elena.”

“Sure.” He unzipped his costume enough to get the phone out of his pocket and unlocked it before handing it to Jemma.

Maybe she should just text, in case their son was asleep in the car. She hit the button to text, and when the app opened, one of the numbers caught her eye. It was listed as a contact, but Jemma recognized it as one of the work phones Fitz used. Cammie still had Deke occupied, so Jemma clicked on the text.

**On 10/31 at 6 pm, be at the Fitz-Simmons house. We have a cow, a cowboy, and a cowgirl. Horse? It’s Cammie’s first-time trick-or-treating. Maybe you too?**

Jemma forgot all about texting Mack as tears blurred her vision. Her wonderful, ridiculous, perfect husband had invited Deke. Because Deke wouldn’t have ever been trick-or-treating. Because Deke was family. Fitz might not be great with words, but he knew how to show someone they were loved, even if Fitz didn’t want Deke to know it was him.

She wiped her face and clicked the phone off, handing it back to Deke before hurrying into the kitchen where Fitz was sitting at the table changing the batteries in a row of flashlights.

“Don’t want anyone to get lost in the dark,” he said, then frowned as he looked up at her. He stood, and she rushed into his arms.

“Thank you,” she whispered, knowing he understood.

Fitz held her close. “Everyone deserves a chance to have something sweet.”


End file.
